


Meteor Showers

by sdd_writes_things



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fix-It, cryin in the club, i found a song called meteor showers and listened to it and just started cryin bc, listen its THEIR SONG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:10:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdd_writes_things/pseuds/sdd_writes_things
Summary: He does not have the luxury of deciding when and where he wants to care about her. This much is true. It just happened, the moment she looked him in the eye in the transport and told him trust went both ways, and now here he is, feverish because her smile makes him so warm but the air around him is so cold and he doesn't know whether he wants to burn alive or freeze to death.





	Meteor Showers

**Author's Note:**

> lmao im getting nowhere with Oh God I Hate You but like i feel bad about it so here's some rebelcaptain for your troubles

This planet is cold. The soil crunches under their feet and in the wan light of approaching night Cassian shivers in his coat.

It reminds him of Jedha. The cold, snowless desert, devoid of any discernable life, stretches on for miles and miles and in the dark he foolishly strains his eyes to see the end.

The rock they're sitting on is cold. It seeps into his ass, freezing him from the ground up, and he wonders why they're here. He wonders why she dragged him out here in the cold when their mission, the one that matters, the one that needs to be finished swiftly, takes place entirely inside that nice, warm lodge in the city center.

He's bitter. Not at Jyn, not for long, because it's  _ her _ , but at the circumstances. He's tired. He wants to sleep under warm covers, veins heated by maybe only a glass or two of alcohol. Something to take the edge off. And he's all the way out here, nose numb, arms pulled around him desperately in attempt to keep warm.

_ Jyn’s probably warm _ , the irrational part of him thinks.  _ Huddle together. Conserve body heat. _

He grunts and pulls in on himself tighter.

Jyn snorts at him. “You're such a baby.”

He rolls his eyes. “Why are we out here?”

A pause. “When I was little, my father would take me stargazing,” she murmurs. “We liked to watch for meteor showers. I guess…after Scarif, I realized I couldn't take that for granted.”

They're both still scarred from the beach. Back at base Bodhi’s hands are raw and bloodied from the habitual picking at his burns. Chirrut’s spending hours a day in the bacta tank and Baze can barely speak for now.

Cassian’s skin is tight on his left. Jyn’s is pink and torn on her right. But--and Force don't curse him for thinking so--she's still so strikingly, powerfully beautiful and the night casts her in cool blue and he catches her eye and suddenly, finally realizes why her father called her Stardust.

There are flecks of some holy, unnamable color in her eyes against the warm, earthen hazel of her irises. The galaxy stretches above them in the clear night sky and reflects itself in her eyes with a stunning brightness and Cassian has to fight to look away.

He can almost feel her smile. It's teasing but affectionate and he hates what it does to his heart. He hates it with a passion and he loves it all the same, the way it makes his heart catch and stop and beat again.

He does not have the luxury of deciding when and where he wants to care about her. This much is true. It just  _ happened _ , the moment she looked him in the eye in the transport and told him trust went both ways, and now here he is, feverish because her smile makes him so warm but the air around him is so cold and he doesn't know whether he wants to burn alive or freeze to death.

A streak of fire shoots across the sky and Jyn lets loose a child-like gasp, full of awe and innocence and none of the hardened, deadly rebel Cassian knows best, the one she'll return to in the morning, the one he knows could kill him. “There's one,” she says, and this is so rare, and he wishes everything now could be recorded but it can't, and so he prays to any god out there that this will not be the last time he sees her like this.

He knows her so intimately and yet not at all. He knows the readiness for death in her eyes on Scarif, knows how her body feels wrapped in his arms, knows how her hands fit in his. He knows what she sounds like when she cries and that she smells like nutmeg and copper and that her arms are stronger than he realized because she nearly squeezed out what little life was left in him back on that beach. He knows what her relief sounds like, what her contentment looks like.

That's how she looks now. Content.

And Cassian, in all truth, does not know her. She's just an invincible woman he was somehow blessed to have met but in the cruel world of war that they live in he knows not who she is. He doesn't know how she likes her caf, how she looks when she first rolls out of bed in the morning. He doesn't know exactly what made her the person she is. Part of him wants a complete list of all the people who hurt her.

But what is he going to do about it? Most of them are probably dead anyway.

Jyn points out another shooting star. He realizes she's closer than before--or rather, he is. He must've scooted in next to her without realizing. She's not pushing him away, in any sense of the word, though, so he doesn't bother to move back.

He can feel the warmth coming off her. He can just faintly hear her heart beating under her scarf and coat and shirt. Her breath steams from her parted lips as she smiles--really, truly smiles--at the sky above them, and the fleeting urge to kiss her runs through Cassian’s brain before he tells himself  _ no _ .

_ Not yet. _

Jyn grabs his arm and flops back onto the outcropping, pulling him down with her. She sighs. “I hope I'll be able to visit all those stars and their planets someday. For fun. Without the war sending me there.”

She's twined her fingers with his and  _ god  _ does he wish he'd taken his gloves off, even for this. He wants to feel the warmth of her palm in his but it's too cold, too dangerous. For both of them.

The meteors are falling steadily now, sending fire across the sky and sparkling, so blue, in Jyn’s eyes. She smiles and closes her eyes, squeezing his hand.

“I used to dream of meteor showers.”


End file.
